Rather Ideal
by hashiba42
Summary: On a shopping excursion, Sekhmet finds the things on his list... and then some.


With a soft jingle from the tiny gold bells above signaling his entrance, he stepped into the small, dusty shop and blinked to let his eyes adjust. It was midday outside, but with a window entirely covered by boxes and shelves of odds, the only light came from a small lamp on the counter, itself covered in numerous jars. He smiled to himself. This place looked promising.

The air was full of competing smells from thousands of different herbs and the several layers of dust on some of the higher shelves. Taking a deep breath, he began to skim the walls for what he needed. There were a number of bottles he couldn't read, boxes labeled in some incomprehensible scrawl... but he didn't need to read to know what almost everything in the store was anyway. A few hundred years concocting in the Dynasty had given him that edge.

As he made his way, grabbing a jar here or there, he began humming to himself. The shop was very small and very narrow, so as he made his way further back, he found himself dodging more and more stacks of boxes. The back corner had a small selection of books, but as he glanced across their covers, he realized not all of them where in Japanese. Curious, he balanced his jars on one arm, grabbed a small blue leather book and flipped it open.

It was filled with illustrations of various plants, and had quite an in-depth labeling system. Though he couldn't understand what most of it said, he could tell it was more than just naming parts; it was naming uses for those parts. He paused for a moment, then snapped it closed and tossed it on top of his pile. Perhaps Mia or one of the Ronins could read it. If not, it was still intriguing.

Satisfied, he turned to make his way to the counter. After nearly knocking over one particularly large stack of crates that had clinked dangerously as it wobbled, he arrived and set his things down. It was only then that he noticed the small man dozing on a stool. He looked about awkwardly, not really sure what to do. Clearing his throat, he was about to say something to try and wake him when there was a call in a foreign tongue from the back of the store. He turned to see what was apparently a staircase behind yet another pile of boxes, and upon those stairs a girl with dark hair and eyes. She repeated herself, and he looked around sheepishly, unsure whether she was telling him something, or talking to the sleeping man. She sighed and shook her head, expertly dodging through the store up to the counter. Once more, she yelled, this time pointedly hitting the slumped man in the shoulder, before turning and giving him an apologetic smile.

"Sorry," she apologized. "My uncle is filling in while my father is recovering, and he's not very good." With that, she elbowed him again, eliciting only a loud snore. "He stays up too late at night drinking and going to pachinko parlors."

Sekhmet stifled a laugh. "It is fine. I have not been waiting long." He put his hands on either side of his pile, compacting it slightly, as if to try and differentiate it from the rest of the things on the counter.

The girl maneuvered around the sleeping man and with a quick glance at his purchases, grabbed a pad of paper and scribbled furiously. She paused as she took note of the book.

"You read Chinese?"

He blinked at her. "Hmm? Oh, the book. Um," he stumbled for words. "I can understand some of the... That is to say... No."

She stared at him a moment and then laughed. "Why would you buy something you cannot read?"

He shrugged, feeling sheepish again. "I find it interesting."

"Looking at the pictures?" she teased, picking it up and opening it. "I don't see how it will do you much good."

"Well," he explained, "I don't have as much experience with plants in the wild as I do this variety." He picked up a jar for emphasis, and she raised an eyebrow.

"You can read that Chinese?"

He turned it in his hand and squinted. "No," he answered plainly. "I don't need to. By look and smell, I can tell what most things in here are." He set the jar down, and avoided her gaze. "But it's been… a long time since I did anything with real plants, and I thought it might make for informative reading."

"If you could read it."

He nodded.

She gave him another long look with those dark eyes, then laughed and jotted it down.

"Your total," she said, handing him the paper. He skimmed it, then reached into a pocket and produced a drawstring bag. As he fished out the money, she chuckled.

"You certainly are an interesting one."

"Hmm?" He looked up quizzically.

"I mean, for starters--" she was cut short as the sound of footsteps came down the stairs. An older lady came shuffling in, yelling very loudly and shrilly in Chinese, he assumed, at the man still snoring lightly behind the counter. Lacking any of the younger woman's humor about the situation, she brought her hand down hard on the man's head several times, finally jarring him awake. He responded with what sounded an awful lot like cursing, and she grabbed him by the ear and dragged him to the front door, tossing him out with a swing of her arm. Sekhmet subconsciously grabbed his own ear and winced.

The girl chuckled. "My mother," she explained. "It's her brother, so don't worry. She said she gave him plenty of chances."

Sekhmet nodded, not quite sure what to say. "I'm sure she is a very fair woman," he replied, trying to think of something polite.

The girl found this amusing as well, and began laughing even harder than she had before. Her mother came shuffling over to see what was so funny, and Sekhmet swallowed. The girl and her mother exchanged more Chinese and then suddenly her mother stopped and swiveled to face him, leaning forward. She squinted her already narrowed eyes at him, seemingly appraising him, then barked something at her daughter and shuffled off to the stairs.

Taken aback, he turned to the girl at the counter. She was grinning somewhat slyly. "My mother is impressed with your knowledge of our merchandise," she told him. "And she says my uncle is no longer employed here, so we have an opening."

It took a moment to sink in. His eyes widened. "You mean I could work here?"

"As I said, my mother was impressed. As impressed as my mother can be anyway."

He raised an eyebrow. "What did you tell her?"

Her grin widened, dark eyes sparkling in the lamp's light. "That you are well informed, and eager to learn as well. You've obviously got quite the background with this sort of thing."

He looked away.

"And I told her that I thought you were funny."

His mouth opened in reply, but nothing came out, so he closed it again.

"So," she queried, bagging up his purchases, "would you be interested?"

He paused for a moment, very unsure. His heart wanted to immediately say yes, for this would be a great opportunity. A job, for one thing. Something he was good at, with an income. Something 'normal'. A start on the road to fitting himself back into a world that was greatly changed from when he'd left it.

But there was still that nagging fear, that he would fail, do something wrong. If he were to mess things up, what would that mean for him? And the girl's mother was obviously going to be the one to check in on him, which he had to admit frightened him. There were other jobs he was sure, but this seemed almost too perfect.

Yes, perfect. A perfect chance… and he'd have to be a perfect idiot to pass it up.


End file.
